Just a Touch
by thinkwinkink
Summary: Soulmate AU where a random touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint of the contact with their name in the middle. Adrinette, mentions Nino/Alya. (it's garbage but I've already written it soooo...)
Adrien stood on the steps out the front of the school, laughing with Nino and putting off going to class, even there were only a few minutes before it began. Adrien's class, at least, was in a science lab on the ground floor close to the entrance. His friend, currently in the middle of an energetic description of a new film editing technique he had heard about, was going to have to go up several flights of stairs and some lengthy corridors to get to his literature lesson. And despite his height, significant now that they were eighteen, he never seemed inclined to put his long legs to use.

"Nino, you're going to be late, we should get going," Adrien laughed.

"Fine, Madame Dubois would crucify me if were late again anyway. See you at recess," he said before hiking up the stairs.

Adrien followed and was about to go through the door, when an odd noise approaching from behind made him turn around. For a fraction of a second, he saw Marinette sprinting towards him, barely two of her significantly smaller strides away. She was looking at her watch, not the obstacle blocking the entrance. He resigned himself to the impact.

She ploughed straight into him with a small scream as they tilted. Her hands flew up to protect her face, landing on his chest. He grabbed her upper arms in a vain attempt to steady them, but her momentum threw them down.

The force of being thrown onto the concrete and having a girl land on top as well knocked the air out of his lungs, and there was a weird tingling pain on the front of his chest. He lay still for a second, trying to breathe and wondering if something was broken – he wasn't familiar with that kind of stinging, but it was fading so it couldn't too serious. He lifted his head to look at Marinette.

She was still on top of him, staring at him in shock and horror, her face pale as a ghost.

"Are you okay?" he wheezed. She probably was. She had over six foot of superhero to break her fall, not that she knew that.

She blinked, mouth moving soundlessly like a fish. He raised an eyebrow, and she suddenly hurried to disentangle herself and stand up. "I am so, so, so, _so_ , sorry!" she exclaimed, turning the darkest red he had ever seen on her face – and she spent a lot of her time blushing when he interacted with her.

"Do you need me to get the nurse? An ambulance? Are you okay? I'm fine, are you? I am so sorry!" she gushed, hands flapping and jumping from foot to foot in a panic.

He gingerly rose to his feet, rubbing at the fading sore spot on his chest. "Yeah, I think I'm okay," he answered. He was glad he was wearing a black jumper, though, since he was fairly sure the rough flooring had scraped his elbows a bit, and bloodstains were always a pain.

She continued to stare at him, slightly calmer but still looking mortified. He stooped down and swept up both of their fallen bags. He held hers out, but she didn't move to take it.

"Really, Marinette, I'm fine. I promise I won't let my father's lawyers sue you for damaging me, either," he said with a grin, wiggling he bag a little in encouragement.

She laughed weakly, taking her bag with a mumbled thank you. A moment later, she gasped and looked up at him in horror. "Class!" she squealed. "I can't be late for design! Out final project is due!"

"Don't let me stop you," he grinned, sweeping an arm out towards the design classroom.

She looked at him, torn, then sprinted past with a pathetic wave.

Looking at his own watch, Adrien strode towards the lab hurriedly.

Adrien showered quickly, the pounding water stinging his scratches from that morning. Stepping out from the steamed-up walls of the shower, he caught sight of his reflection in the huge mirror of his bathroom.

Largely, he looked normal. Green eyes, wet hair sticking to his face, smooth tan skin. Except for a big smudge right in the middle of his chest. He frowned down at it. Was it another of his bruises, courtesy of Marinette? He pressed it gingerly. I didn't ache at all, and it didn't look like a bruise. In fact it looked more like a soul mark.

He gasped, lurching to the mirror to stare at it front on.

Slightly off the dead centre of his chest, what he was fairly certain was his soul mark was forming. It looked like it was in the shape of a small handprint, about the size of Marinette's delicate hands. Hands that she had put on his chest as they fell. He didn't noticed his chest was heaving as he stood, shocked by the revelation.

This time tomorrow, the mark would probably be fully formed. He would know who his soulmate was. Though, squinting at it now, he thought he could make out the first two letters of their name.

"Ma"

Forcing himself to turn away from his reflection, he got ready for bed and lay flat on his mattress.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They were friends, though they weren't _that_ close. They'd been on good terms since he'd started at school, and since their respective best friends had been dating, often spent spare time together (usually as a quartet).

She was warm, sweet, funny when she was relaxed, serious and capable when the need arose. He liked her, maybe had a small crush, but he wouldn't have said he was in love with her.

He didn't need to be, though. If they were meant to be, it would come. And there weren't many people who seemed easier to fall in love with than Marinette. He hoped she would be able to overcome that awkwardness that still flared for apparently no reason around him, and him alone.

At that thought, he sat bolt upright. What if that was because she already had her soul mark? She was too shy to mention it for some reason? He had always thought it was because he scared her somehow, maybe because of his father, and he wasn't the best at relating to people his age due to the years of home-schooling, so he couldn't put her at ease.

This cast her behaviour in a whole new light. Potentially. He couldn't assume. He shouldn't get his heart set on her, either, not until her name was spelled out on his body forever.

He placed his hand over the imprint of hers on and tried to settle into sleep.

Alya sighed in frustration. They were sitting in the courtyard, happily chatting, until Nino and Adrien walked over. Marinette was blushing down at her lunch with single-minded dedication. Ignoring them, or more specifically Adrien, so devotedly, that she hadn't noticed his equally intense staring at her. The incredibly frustrating cycle had been going on for three days now.

Biting back a grumble, Alya got to her feet, pulling Marinette with her. "We'll be back in a few minutes, I just need to do something quickly," she said vaguely, pressing a quick kiss to Nino's cheek before dragging the bemused girl into an empty classroom.

"What are you doing?" she burst out as soon as they were alone.

Marinette looked alarmed. "What do you-?"

Alya wasn't having it. "You _know_ what I mean. You're being so weird around Adrien. And girl, you know how oblivious that boy is, but I think even he's wondering what's going on with you," she ranted.

Marinette paled. "Oh, God. Why? Did he say something? Of course he's mad at me, it must have hurt more than I thought…" she trailed off, looking at the floor and twisting her fingers together.

"Wait, is this still about running into him before school?" she asked, before softening her tone. "Think about it, Marinette. You've come so far, you guys are friends. He's not in pain, and he's not mad. I think he might be worried about you, he's been staring at you for days."

The shorter girl's head snapped up to meet her eyes. "He has?"

"Mm hmm. And not the bad kind of staring. The good kind," she affirms. To be honest, she doesn't really know how to explain the boy's sudden fixation with her friend. One day, he was focused on lessons and spread his time fairly evenly among his friends during breaks. The next, anytime she could see the two of them at once, Marinette was awkwardly avoiding him and he was watching her. Sometimes he looked worried, or concentrated, and sometimes he looked almost… dreamy. She decided to keep the about-time-he-admitted-it-to-himself crush theory to herself until her friend had let go of her current shame fest. Maybe he was just worried, as a friend. Besides, it would only make Marinette more nervous around her long-term crush.

Promising to follow Alya out in a few minutes, Marinette collapsed into a chair and stared vacantly at the blank board. As much as she appreciated her advice, she couldn't really understand Marinette's position. Alya and Nino had developed their soul marks over two years ago – adorably, they were a rare case wherein the marks matched. Less adorably, they were both shadows of each other's fist on their upper arms, from punches about ten hours apart.

The more Marinette grew up, the more conflicted she felt about her infatuation with her classmate. She had been hopelessly in love with him for the better part of four years, and it really wasn't going anywhere. Certainly, she'd managed to get over her anxiety around him, becoming proper friends, but for all the taps on the shoulder and brushes against arms that had occurred between them, she had never felt that shock that everyone was waiting for. That told you who was your soulmate, your other half. A lot of people didn't get their mark until they were already in a relationship, and usually much older than the final year of high school. And yet… she worried. Maybe it was time to let go. Move on.

Then there was Chat Noir, someone whom she always tried not to think of in this context. His flirtations in her direction had eased over time, the two of them falling into a close friendship, but nothing more. She didn't know if he still felt something romantic towards her, and she didn't want him to become a second choice if it didn't work out with Adrien. But she felt like there was something deep in her heart that was growing for the cheeky, leather-clad boy – or man, she supposed. That cat suit looked better on his matured form than she cared to admit.

Her self-pitying musings were interrupted by something like an earthquake that rumbled underfoot and made the windows rattle. She listened, hand half-extended to open the purse in which Tikki hid. Screams outside and distant but loud maniacal laughter sealed the deal.

"Tikki, transform me!"

It took about an hour for the famous heroic duo to defeat the akuma and restore the city, and Ladybug was exhausted. Emotional turmoil and an existential crisis paired with the mounting stress of the last few weeks of classes before final exams for her last year of school meant she didn't have a lot of energy to spare.

She turned to Chat Noir, who stood not far behind her with his arm extended, politely tilted downwards so she wouldn't have to reach. These days, she was much more than a head shorter than him. She'd still probably win in a fight, though, just to be clear.

She knocked her knuckles against his quickly, mumbling out their traditional "Bien joué" quickly before turning to leave with a tired smile. Chat caught her wrist as she went for her yoyo.

"Ladybug?" he probed gently. He sounded uncertain, but concerned.

She faced him with a smile. "Sorry, kitty. I'm just really tired and have a lot happening at the moment. But you did a good job today. See you soon," she promised, rolling onto her toes to pat his soft golden hair with her free hand.

Chat nodded in understanding. "Well, I won't keep you, My Lady. Take care of yourself," he said earnestly, before the signature cheeky grin reappeared as he leant down to kiss her hand.

She jumped when his lips met her covered hand. It was far from the first time he had done this, but she had a physical reaction to it this time. It physically hurt, a little, and the back of her hand felt weird, as though she had pins and needles.

She pulled herself free, ignoring the inquisitive look on her partner's face, and swung up onto the rooftops, already decided on a well-deserved nap.

The moment she arrived home, she collected a few cookies for Tikki, changed into her pyjamas, and went to sleep, despite the fact that the sun hadn't even fully set.

Something hit her in the head, and she woke with a start. A red blob floated before her eyes. Tikki.

"What is it?" she mumbled sleepily. At about midnight, she had woken up, eaten the snacks her parents had left on her desk while doing a little homework, and simply returned to bed soon after. For once, she was going to be well rested for school.

"You're going to be late for school if you don't hurry," she said, gesturing to the alarm clock which her charge had neglected to set.

Marinette groaned, but leapt out of bed and threw on a jumper, tights, skirt and coat, hoping they all went together, grabbed her school stuff and was out of the house in less than fifteen minutes.

Sitting down for her first lesson, she pulled out her books before settling into the conversation with her three friends. They were configured just as they had been years ago. French was the only class they all had together, so Nino and Adrien sat in front of Alya and Marinette, and it was nice to remember all the good times between then and now.

She had decided to do her best to be normal with Adrien – if nothing else, his relationship with his dad minimised how many friends he had, and she was determined not to hurt him by removing one of the major supports in his life, in the form of herself. She wasn't sure how much of a difference she made, but she knew he valued their friendship.

Turning to tell him a joke, she was surprised to see his weighty emerald gaze already focused on her. He was smiling, but he still looked… intense. At least he didn't seem angry. She didn't notice she was just staring back into the teacher walked into the room and called them all to attention. He reluctantly turned to face the front and the connection broke.

She pushed up the extra-long sleeves of her oversized jumper (the delightful kind that hung halfway down her fingers and made her feel cosy and safe and cute) to free her hands to take notes, but something caught her eye.

A smudge on the back of her right hand. She brought it closer to her face to examine, maybe rub it off, when she froze. She immediately broke out into a sweat, and fought down her verbal reaction. How tired, how out-of-it had she been not to have noticed it? How long had it been there? Had Adrien seen it? Who else had known before she did?

She couldn't make out the shape of the mark, it was a pair of short, parallel-ish lines across the back of her hands. It wasn't quite fully formed, still pale and fuzzy around the edges, so it must have happened in the day or so. But there was no mistaking it: her soul mark. In the middle of each of the blobs (finger marks?) was a name. 'Adrie' and 'Agres' they read. Again, they weren't quite formed yet, but it was abundantly clear who it was going to be. Adrien.

She registered that she didn't even know when he had triggered it, couldn't remember touching him she fell on him, too long ago for it to be that… probably.

Jerking out of her reverie, she wrenched her sleeve back down to cover it, flinging her other hand in the air.

"Oui, Marinette? What did you get?" the woman at the front of the room asked.

Marinette was too preoccupied to feel embarrassed or guilty at this point. "Uh, sorry, Madame. I really need to… be excused… for a few minutes. It's really important," she said.

With a flat expression and several exasperated sighs, she conceded. No sooner had the permission passed her lips when Marinette grabbed her bag and raced out the door, making a beeline for the bathrooms.

Locking herself in a stall, she revealed her mark again. She stared. In a way, she had been delivered from doubt and was lucky enough to have the person she was so in love with be her soul mate.

But along with this revelation came a new set of doubts. Did he know? If he didn't, what should she say? Should she just let him see it? No, surely not…

What if he didn't care? It was highly unusual, but not everyone pursued their soulmate romantically. There was no guarantee that his name on her hand meant that they'd suddenly kiss in the moonlight and write love poems to each other and he'd miss her when he was busy working, waiting to snuggle with her under a warm blanket when it rained…

"Marinette," Tikki was calling softly, a tiny hand on her charge's cheek. "Surely this is a good thing. Why do you look so upset?" she queried when the girl finally appeared to be listening.

"It is. I'm not. It's just… a lot, you know?" she said helplessly.

Tikki nuzzled against her cheek as Marinette took a few calming breaths. "Okay. For now, I have to get back to class. So I'd better cover this up," she said to herself more than the little kwami.

Digging through her backpack, she found the box of band aids she carried for emergencies. Sometimes her own, sometimes those of Manon or other kids she babysat, and amusingly often Adrien, who was a little bit of a wuss when it came to broken skin, it seemed. Maybe he hadn't been allowed outside when he was little, and only now was he ever able to hurt himself. For whatever reason, he brooded over papercuts more than anyone else she had ever met. It was adorable.

The box originally contained fifteen Ladybug and fifteen Chat Noir bandages, but Adrien always insisted on a Ladybug one so she only had four Chat ones left. She lined three of them up to cover her mark, twisting her hand to make sure she was satisfied.

She had to smile at the designs they sported. The first was black with a pair of green cat eyes, the second was lime green with black paw prints trailing its length, and the last was black with _CLAWSOME!_ emblazoned along it.

Drawing strength from the imitation of her partner's gaze, knowing he would believe in her to do anything, she put away the box and strode back to her classroom, head held high.

Two minutes until lunch break. She was desperate. She was so ready to be gone. It was maths, the only class she had with Adrien but neither Nino nor Alya. Of course they sat next to each other.

Of course it was torture.

 _Of course he had asked about her hand._ He seemed to believe her when she said nothing was wrong, she just needed a boost and a superhero band aid could fix almost anything.

He was definitely looking at her more than necessary, though. More than usual. And Marinette was too anxious to enjoy the attention she would have revelled in a week ago.

One minute.

She could barely sit still. She needed to get out of there. Adrien turned to whisper something to her, leaning in and making her want to swoon and cry at the same time.

He didn't get the chance. "Alright, you can all pack up, and we'll continue this tomorrow," Monsieur Proufeux declared. Noise flared up as people gathered their things, Marinette throwing her stationery and books into her bag and launching out of her seat in moments.

She just needed to get home, have a little time to think, by herself, and she might be able to finally-

Someone caught her hand, and she dragged them a step after her before whirling around, lame excuse on her tongue. Except she was looking at Adrien's collar. She shifted her eyes up, shoving down the observations of how good he looked today and beating back the loving thoughts that swirled around her whenever he spoke to her.

"Um, Mari, I really need to talk to you about something. You seem like you're in a rush, but it's really important…" he said uncertainly. He looked so worried, slightly embarrassed.

"Sounds ominous," she said with an uncomfortable laugh.

He chuckled weakly in response. "Maybe, a bit. But not bad, I promise. I think…" he trailed off again.

Part of her wanted to ditch him, at any cost, and apologise later, but when he seemed so shy and vulnerable there was no way she wouldn't do anything he needed.

Biting her lip, she nodded. "Okay, we can talk."

A slightly tense smile spread across his face at that made her stomach flutter, and he pulled her out of the room and down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" she asked. If he wasn't going to say something awful surely he could just say it.

After a minute, he pulled open and door and yanked her in after him. He was usually so calm and gentle, she was worried. Another cause for concern arose as she considered the fact they were now standing in a dark supply cupboard, the tiny space was not meant for two, or even one really, and the darkness made it even more startlingly intimate. She could hear him breathing, feel it as he shifted not a hand span away from her.

Suddenly there was a snap and she blinked in the sudden brightness. Well, it was still a bit dingy, the naked bulb that hung from the ceiling sapped by the rows of cluttered shelves. And Adrien. His lithe frame towered over her, golden lit up like a halo but blocking much of the light from reaching her. She wondered if she should read more into that metaphor or not, but he finally started doing something.

She was expecting that the something would go some way to explaining what was going on. The something was… taking off his clothes?

Marinette squeaked and he started pulling the dark blue knit over his head. When the boy you love starts stripping with no explanation, your self-control can only go so far. She stared at him gratuitously as well as incredulously at the seductive display. Yes, it was just a jumper and he wore a shirt beneath it, but there was no space in that tiny room and he was practically on top of her.

He dropped the jumper, probably designer and worth a pretty penny, on the floor, and started on the buttons of his shirt.

"Adrien!" she squealed. She couldn't help herself. She was scandalised and conflicted but interested… no, she wanted answers.

He gave her a look that seemed sheepish and roguish at once, but said nothing as his fingers danced down to his belly, making quick work of his buttons.

"How many more items of clothing have to go before you can talk about you important thing?" she whispered heatedly, looking pointedly at a row of spray bottles on the back wall, but following every move out of the corner of her eye.

He laughed. "That's it, I promise," he said, before turning nervous. "So, I've been wanting to tell you for a few days, but I didn't know how… so I guess I'll just…"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, before he pulled his shirt open. Marinette was already bright red, she was sure, but it managed to get more intense as he randomly showed off his admirably chiselled chest.

She made a choking noise and looked away in an embarrassment so intense she wasn't sure if she was going to make it out of the room in one piece. But Adrien was a little dorky, shy and funny-weird. Not assault-your-friends-in-a-closet-weird. He must have a point.

With a sigh she forced herself to look at his flawless, smooth skin for whatever he was getting at. It took only a millisecond for everything to click.

Over his heart was a handprint, and in the middle, in her curly handwriting that hadn't changed since she was fourteen, was the name _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_. She gasped, staring. As though in a trance, she slowly reached out her hand, still swathed in Chat Noir imagery, and placed it on the mark. The perfect fit.

She looked up to his face with wide eyes. He was blushing too, but he looked down at her warmly. He looked happy. She smiled up at him, timidly at first, but their smiles grew into grins, and then they were laughing. Between giggles she pulled her hand back, picking at the band aids.

"You showed me yours, I should show you mine," she remarked. Pulling off three band aids made her eyes water, but she held up her hand for him to inspect.

He took it in his, examining the mark, and cocked his head to the side. "When did you get it?" he asked. She could feel his breath on her hand when he spoke, and it made her want to shiver.

She shrugged awkwardly. "I actually don't know. It must be recent, it's not even totally finished appearing, and I only noticed it this morning in class. I can't even tell what it is. Maybe I just bumped you," she frowned. "It kind of looks like fingers."

He lowered her hand from his face and laid two fingers across the marks, shrugging. "I guess it's possible. Not everyone's is as clear as this," he grinned, gesturing to the mark on his chest a little proudly. As though he had anything to do with it.

"Well, you're welcome, I suppose," she sniffed. "Maybe it means I'm more decisive or more potent than you."

"You know this happened when you fell on me the other day, right?" he scoffed. "Or should I say, _for_ me?"

Marinette turned her head way haughtily, pulling her hand free to cross her arms. He laughed at her for a while, and she stuck her nose in the air with a harrumph.

He quieted down. "Okay, okay. Marinette. Mari?" he said.

She ignored him.

"Mariiiii?" his tone turned cajoling. He kept crooning her name as he leant around to get in her field of vision. She tried not to let her lips drop their pout, but the limited space made it feel like he was everywhere. She wanted to touch him again. Badly.

He got close enough so that all she could see were vibrant green eyes. It was all she ever wanted to see again. His fingers ghosted against her cheek.

"Marinette," he breathed. He turned her head so she was facing him again, following her head with his. "Can I kiss you?"

Her own blue eyes were wide with wonder and anticipation. She nodded slightly, and he leant forward. Their eyes fluttered shut, and their lips met softly. It was sweet, perfect, loving. It was in a closet full of cleaning supplies.

She giggled as they separated. "I can't believe I had my first real kiss in a cupboard at school."

"What's so unbelievable about that?" he murmured against her cheek, pressing another kiss there.

A hand came up to rest against his cheek, and her fingertips caressed the silky blonde hair at his temple. "Isn't it a bit cliché?" she wondered.

He kissed her again, resting the other hand on her hip, this one lasting longer than the first. "If so, for good reason," he argued.

"It's not very romantic," she said sceptically, but softly. This was one of the sweetest moments she'd ever experienced.

He pulled back slightly, something lighting in his eyes that looked like he was ready to rise to a hidden challenge in her words. "Oh really?" he question, voice lower and huskier than she'd heard ever before, and she tried not to swoon. "I think it can be quite romantic."

He tugged her suddenly closer, and she put her hand on his bare chest to steady herself. He weaved his fingers through her inky hair and kissed her passionately. She let out a surprised sound, but melted against him. She could feel his firm body against the length of her own, and their mouths moved like they were made for one another. Which they kind of were.

All the worries over how he would react melted away, replaced with a glowing warm feeling in her chest.

The door wrenched open and rudely disrupted their private little bubble.

"Alix said she saw the two of them–" Alya cut off suddenly, seeing her two friends looking like deer caught in headlights, still wrapped around each other and Adrien in a state of partial undress.

Nino, over her shoulder, looked gobsmacked, before turning incredibly amused. "Well, I guess she was right about that one. Don't let us stop you, guys," he snickered.

Marinette extracted herself from his hold, blushing scarlet and struggling for words. Alya looked almost offended for some reason, but Nino reached around her and pushed the door shut again. The sound of his voice and footsteps faded as he led his girlfriend away.

Adrien was blushing, unsure of what to do now. Marinette looked up at him with an embarrassed laugh.

"I think she's upset I didn't tell her," she laughed quietly. "I'll talk to her after lunch."

Adrien nodded, and started buttoning his shirt back up. She checked her watch and tried not to ogle him as he got dressed.

"Um, there's still half an hour left, and I was going to eat at home today, and I don't know if… I mean, do you want to come? You don't have to, if you're busy," she offered, twisting her fingers together.

Satisfied with the way his collar was sitting under the reclaimed jumper, he tentatively reached for her hand, beaming when she curled her fingers through his. "I'd love to," he replied.

About a week after the fateful day they revealed their marks, they were hanging out in Marinette's bedroom after school. They had told Marinette's parents two days after janitorial closet incident, and Adrien had resolved to mention to his father the next time they spoke, but wouldn't make a song and dance about it. It saddened her that he thought his own father wouldn't care about something so important, but let it lie, for now at least.

Marinette lay on the carpet, sketching a suit that, not that she had told him, Adrien had inspired. The boy in question was stretched out on her chaise longue, playing with his phone. It was easy and comfortable to spend time with him, Marinette found, even if they weren't doing anything in particular, like today. Conversation came and went, and she was happy.

With a noisy sigh, Adrien set his phone aside and rolled over to look at her. "Marinette," he said seriously. She looked up, and he looked kind of nervous.

"Um, there's something I should tell you. Something that I've never really told anyone, and I just think you should know sooner rather than later," he rushed. He stood up and hesitated. "Um, obviously you can't tell anyone. I trust you, but it's important."

She stared up at him, wide eyed. Was it medical or something? Maybe to do with his dad? She didn't know, but she nodded in encouragement, sitting up to focus on him. Whatever he was so agitated about when he was normally so calm and collected, she promised herself she would accept and support him.

He took a deep breath and pulled something black and fist-sized from his pocket. Before she could get a good look at it, he called out, "Plagg, transform me!"

Like that, in a flash of green light, Adrien was gone. Where he had stood, was the famous Chat Noir, 'tail' swishing anxiously behind him as he waited for her judgement. She stared, open-mouthed, for a moment, then giggled.

"No way," she breathed. "I can't believe it. _I can't BELIEVE it!_ "

He looked confused as she just laughed at him, so she quieted down. "Sorry, kitty, hang on a second. Tikki!" she called, her bright pink kwami appearing from somewhere near her desk. "Transform me!"

Chat stared at her, eyes bugging out. "Ladybug… _Marinette?"_ he gasped.

She laughed again and released her transformation. "What are the chances, huh?" she remarked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear a little shyly.

Chat's eerie green eyes fixed on the back of her hand as she did, and a grin spread across his features. Stepping forward, he caught her hand, bringing it up to her lips.

She looked between his amused expression and her hand in confusion.

"I think I just realised where you got your mark," he laughed. He was right: the mark matched where his lips pressed against her skin. She thought back to the last time she had seen Chat Noir. He had kissed her hand, and she had felt something…

"Oh my God," she mumbled. When she looked back up, it was Adrien rather than Chat holding her hand, looking down at her with a smile. "You would, dammit, Kitty."

He laughed, and kissed her on the cheek. She bit back a smile and flopped back down to finish her drawing. Adrien folded himself to sit beside her, playing with her hair while she worked.

They let out twin happy sighs. Neither had imagined things working out this way.


End file.
